


Tear My Heart Open

by OwenToDawn



Category: Final Fantasy XIII Series, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Memory Issues, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Night Terrors, Panic Attacks, Polyamory Negotiations, Post Lightning Returns, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 08:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20387083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Hope tries to readjust to a new world he helped create when none of it even feels real





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is a labor of love of almost two years. If you like it and enjoy it, I would greatly appreciate any comments or thoughts. I wanted to explore how difficult it would be for Hope to go through so much of life only to have parents who aren't really the ones he lost come back once the world is reset. There's a second chapter to this which will be posted immediately after the first chapter. I may add more small one shots as time goes on but for now I'm ready to allow this to see the light of day and be free. 
> 
> Title from Scars by Papa Roach. I listened to mostly Linkin Park, MGK, Sum 41, and Papa Roach while writing this too in case you were wondering haha
> 
> There's also an Infamous Second Son reference in here, points if you recognize it

Hope _knows_his parents are real. They have no memories of Cocoon or Pulse, too removed from the events to retain the memories. People crop up on occasion claiming to remember and make the news, but other than that, as far as Hope can tell, the only people who remember anything are the nine who were directly involved. Years, _centuries_, ago he longed to have a chance to live with his parents. Now though, he’s a 20-year-old too wise for his age and too smart for someone who is only two years into an engineering degree.

So instead of staying and experiencing what life could’ve been, he heads off to college as soon as he can.

Running doesn’t help but he can’t stop. He thinks maybe he finally understands what Snow had been feeling all those years ago. He could call them. When the seven of them had reunited four years ago, they’d exchanged contact information, but he only reached out to them sporadically through email. Even with those he understood, those who understood _him_, he couldn’t bring himself to truly reach out to them. Everything felt fake.

He ends up at Porum University, located in the city of Ria that Serah and Snow lived outside of. It’s a quick ride on the train, but he can’t bring himself to go see them. He buries his head in his engineering books instead, even though he doesn’t really need to with the Academy training. What confuses him is how their world formed in this first place, a hodge podge of basic physics and engineering mastered long before the War of Transgression and newer concepts and ideas that they’d never developed. He wonders if the structure of the world developed from everyone’s souls, or just the souls of the nine of them, or something else entirely.

It was just another question he’d never be able to answer.

Lightning is the one that convinces him to buy a train ticket out of the city. It’s not really intentional. At the end of one of her emails is just a few short lines –_by the way, Serah misses you. She’s worried. _She doesn’t need to say that Serah and Snow have noticed his proximity and continued silence. It makes guilt tug at his stomach so he caves and heads out.

Serah waits for him at the station with a colorful sign of his name. She’s just as beautiful as ever and the familiarity is like a shock to the heart, a reminder that he isn’t just an isolated island with a soul too big for his skin. Panic follows right after, clenching around his chest and choking his throat. Serah’s elated expression falls and she drops the sign in favor of rushing to him.

“Hope, are you okay?” she asks, tugging his overnight bag away and taking his hand with one of hers. “You don’t look so good…”

He takes a shaky breath and nods. “Let’s just go.”

She nods and pulls him through the crowd and out to the parking lot. He shakes his hand free, desperately needing the comfort of isolation for a moment. Serah stops and turns to face him.

“I’ll get my bike okay? Wait here.”

She sets his bag at his feet and heads off. Hope looks up at the sky and focuses on breathing, trying to convince the panic to leave him alone. It eases for a few moments. When Serah roars up to the curbside on a white motorcycle, he feels normal. He straps his bag to the back of the motorcycle and takes the helmet Serah offers him.

“You into these beasts now too?” Hope asks, faux teasing in his voice that doesn’t come off quite right.

Serah still humors him with a smile. “Gives a fuzzy jolt. Hop on.” She flicks the visor down.

Hope climbs on.

-.-

It’s a forty-minute ride down country back roads to reach Serah and Snow’s wood cottage situated back from the main road deep in the woods. It’s not entirely what he expected of them. Not after Snow’s meltdown after her death. Apparently, anyone can make a comeback.

“We built it,” Serah says after she’s parked the bike under a small wooden overhang. “I wanted to participate this time instead of just letting him do everything.”

“How’d he handle that?” Hope asks, unstrapping his bag from the bike and slinging it over his shoulder.

Serah shrugs. “It’s been an adjustment. We’ve both changed a lot since we first got engaged after all, so it’s changed our whole relationship.” She smiles. “It’s working though.”

Hope nods and then follows her around to the front door, bracing himself for seeing Snow again. Serah leads him inside to a large, open living room with simple décor in hues of white and green in the area rug and the curtains on the kitchen windows that oversee a large wood pile. The wood burning stove sits in the center of the room a few feet from a wall and a door that must lead to the bedroom. It’s…quaint.

"Snow’s out chopping more wood, he’ll be back soon though,” Serah says. “There’s a guest room through our bedroom – it’s hard to miss. I’ll get us something to eat, okay?”

The dismissal is obvious, and Hope can’t help but wonder if it’s his fault and if this were all one giant mistake. He’s made Serah uncomfortable. It’s the last thing he wants. And yet…that flash of joy when he’d seen her and the subsequent panic? They made his heart pound and made him feel alive, like for just a moment he actually fit his skin properly.

He heads through their bedroom, also simply decorated but this time in light pink and white, and through a small but functional bathroom and into a smaller bedroom beyond. There’s a twin sized bed up against the wall beneath a window and when he sets the bag he peers out into what must be Serah’s vegetable garden, rows and rows of plants meticulously planted and weeded. It’s like they’ve built their own little slice of paradise to live out their lives far from anyone who didn’t know the truth.

The longing to stay takes him by surprise.

He turns back to the door and starts heading for the main room but a flash of green compels him to stop and look at the trunk at the foot of their bed. A piece of familiar green cloth hangs out between the lid and the body of the trunk. Giving in to his curiosity, he steps over and lifts the lid just enough to tug the fabric free. It’s a centuries old, blood-stained bandana, one he’d worn and later used to wrap a particularly bad wound of Snow’s when they’d fought against the Chaos.

Memories flood him, the sound of screaming monsters and Sazh’s gunfire, the icy chill of Snow’s magic sapping the heat from his body, the ache in his arms as he carried Dajh away from the fighting. He barely registers his knees hitting the ground. His chest vibrates, so he must be making some sort of noise, but all he can focus on is the bandana clutched in his hand.

It isn’t until it’s snatched from him that he snaps back into his body. He’s aware then, embarrassingly so, of the tears on his cheeks. He’s centuries old and still crying over memories like a child. He rocks back up onto his feet and wipes his eyes. That’s enough to stop the tears, but shame still makes his face heat and robs him of his ability to look at Snow, so he stares at the man’s boots instead.

“Hey,” Snow says, his deep voice making something instinctive in him reach out and beg for more comfort.

He ignores it. “Why…_how_do you still have that?” His fingers clench into fists at his side before unfurling and stretching out until his knuckles crack.

“I kept this, and Serah’s necklace, and one of Sazh’s chocobo chick feathers on me,” Snow says. “They were still with me when we got here but I…blamed myself for what happened back then and I didn’t want to forget that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hope says.

"You deal with these a lot?” Snow asks, an obvious deflection. His shoes disappear as he puts the bandana back in the trunk. “Flashbacks, I mean.”

"Not often,” Hope says. Finally, he drags his eyes up to look at Snow, who’s hair is cut short now, close to his head with the front spiked up a little. “I try to avoid triggers.”

"I’ll make sure I keep those out of sight,” Snow says, offering a smile that’s much more nervous than Hope is used to seeing.

“I’m fine. It just took me by surprise,” Hope says. “Really, don’t worry about me.”

Snow reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “You know me. I’m always worrying about people, especially the ones I care about.”

Hope stares at his hand, unable to stop the way he leans into it. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Snow frown and that’s enough of a reminder to make him shift back before he makes more of a fool of himself. That makes Snow frown more. Hope isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do with himself, feeling more awkward than he ever did as a child.

“Where’s Serah?” he asks.

“Out in the living room,” Snow says, expression turning to something more neutral.

Hope follows him out where Serah’s put a fruit platter on the coffee table and takes a seat in one of the chairs to avoid accidentally touching either of them. Serah and Snow curl up together on the couch.

"So how’s university life?” Serah asks, picking out a few grapes and popping them in her mouth.

“Boring, honestly. This world is way behind when it comes to science,” Hope says. He smirks. “And how are you two handling not getting to be the hero every day?”

Snow gives an exaggerated sigh. “Retired life is great, kid. My hero days are over.”

Serah elbows him and rolls her eyes. “Except when we’re on the road. Then he’s all about helping everyone we meet.”

"So what, you’re too smart for the world so you’re going to invent everything and make a ton of money off that or what?” Snow asks.

“Definitely not,” Hope says. “Half our problems were born out of dependence on machines. I’m not going to speed that along.”

“It seems lonely,” Serah says, brow pinching as she gives Hope a probing look. “Are you sure you’re okay on your own? It’s been so long since any of us heard from you and it sounds like you’re all on your own out there, what with no one knowing how much you do.”

His knee jerk reaction is to insist that he’s fine, but that’d just be denying something they’d both already witnessed to be true.

“You ever feel like you’re too big for your skin?” he asks. “It’s like that, like I’m trying to cram something more inside me and…I don’t know. It’s too much sometimes. That’s when the flashbacks flare up. The rest of the time, I’m only so stable because I’m just doing my best not to think about anything.”

Serah looks sad. He almost regrets saying anything.

“It was like that for me a little bit when I first started seeing the future,” Serah says. She looks at Snow and squeezes his hand. “Babe?”

Snow shakes his head. “I’m alright. I was just thinking about what you said Hope. In a lot of ways, we all feel like that, at least those of us who remember. Humans aren’t meant to have centuries worth of memories, so of course you have to pack some of it away just to find some peace. But you can’t just stay that way. You saw what happened to me.”

“Not really, no,” Hope says. “When I woke up, it was like you were someone else entirely. I didn’t see the progression.”

“I guess I can be grateful for that,” Snow says, and there’s something in his eyes, a sadness, that makes Hope wish he could fix everything. “Serah’s right though. You shouldn’t hide away from us. It makes you hide from yourself and look where that got you.”

The shame claws its way out of his gut and up into his face again. Apparently not even centuries can kick his need to appear strong and capable in Snow’s eyes, and he’s barely been here twenty minutes and he’s already screwed that up.

“I just feel like I shouldn’t need to do this, rely on you for this,” Hope says.

“We can all handle a lot on our own if we need to,” Serah says. “But that doesn’t mean we have to. I know my burden was a lot lighter with Noel by my side back then and now too with Snow. You don’t _have_to be alone Hope.”

Each word chips at his will, finding the cracks and crevices and hammering down on the weak points and spider-webbing the cracks outward. There’s things he’s been dying to get out for years. Fears, worries, thoughts he’s been unable to spill out onto an electronic page when he’s exchanged messages with Light or Vanille or Sazh. And really, he was kidding himself if he thought he could come here and not shatter wide open after five years of meticulous and careful repression.

"There’s too much,” Hope says with a nervous smile. 

“So start with the thing that bothers you most. What’s on your mind, more than anything?” Snow asks. He’s leaning forward now, staring at Hope with this intent look that for _once _makes Hope feel safe, like he can say something and not be judged or left behind for it.

“My parents,” Hope says. “More than anything, that’s what I’ve been worried about.”

“Are they okay?” Serah asks.

“They’re fine, it’s just…they treat me like a kid,” Hope says, voice becoming strained as panic squeezes down on his chest once more. There’s a look on Snow’s face like he’s about to object, so he beats him to it. “I’m not. I look like I am but I’m not the child they think I am, or that any of you see when you look at me.”

“Hope I…” Snow pauses and looks at Serah before leaning back on the couch. “I suppose I still do to some extent, even after everything. I know you’re capable. Hell, out of all of us, you’re the one I’d say would go the furthest and really make something of yourself here because you’ve got the drive and determination _and_a way that draws people to you.”

Hope shakes his head. “Not anymore…maybe once upon a time but I…” Emotion swamps him them as he remembers all at once his accomplishments with the Academy, the inventions and systems he put in place that allowed a world to come together and advance to try and save itself all those centuries ago. He had united Pulse and Cocoon to work together when all the work of the Fal’Cie had done nothing but tear them apart. But none of it mattered. And the thought of putting all that work in again just to have humanity tear itself apart once more…he doesn’t think he could handle it.

“Hey,” Serah says.

He looks up. She had left the couch and come to stand in front of him while he was lost in his thoughts.

“Snow is just trying to say you’re capable of doing whatever you want to do, not that you have to,” she says, reaching out to hold his hands once more. There’s something about her touch that’s soothing in its own way, a gentleness to her that calms him. “I think now, the most important thing you could do is take a break from life and just…process everything. It sounds like you haven’t been able to do that, especially when it comes to your parents.”

Hope squeezes his eyes shut tight and then, before he loses the courage, reaches out and wraps his arms around Serah, pulling her close and burying his face against her stomach. She makes a noise of surprise, but then her hands come to brace on the back of his head. She strokes her fingers through his hair and he lets out a rush of breath, clinging to her and telling himself over and over in his head that this is real. She’s real. His parents feel ephemeral, like something he dreamt up and hallucinates into existence. The fact that they don’t retain any of their memories from Cocoon just adds to the feeling.

For the first time in too long, he feels as though the people in front of him aren’t just moments away from vanishing, like if he thinks too hard about them they’ll just disappear. It should make him happy. Instead, it just makes him want to cry. Perhaps, somewhere along the line in repressing everything, his brain got its wires crossed in how it was supposed to react to any given emotion. It doesn’t matter.

“Nothing feels real anymore,” he gasps out. “They don’t really know me so how can they be real? How can any of this?”

“Hope…” Serah’s voice breaks and that’s it – it’s all he can take.

He starts crying then, fingers twisting in the back of her shirt as he soaks the front. The past six years feel like some fever dream, like he was back in the Ark, devoid of emotion with nothing inside, and now it’s like it’s all crashing into him at once whether he likes it or not. It’s loss more than anything. He lost his childhood at fourteen when he became a pawn for the gods, and then when he grew strong from that, he lost Light and Fang and Vanille. He picked up the pieces after that only to have several centuries of work be eaten up by the Chaos.

And even then, when no one would have blamed him for giving up, he kept going. He united the world once more the way he learned he could years ago. But he lost that too, and with it his body and his agency. Now he had it all back but…what did it matter? Who was to say he wouldn’t lose his parents again, or lose anything he bothered to build or create this time around? He’d already lived his life three times.

“I just don’t want to lose anyone anymore,” he chokes out, eyes squeezed shut tight. “And I’m scared I’m going to wake up and it’s all going to be gone and I can’t…I can’t do that again.”

Serah shakes in his grip and he realizes all at once he’s made her cry. “Oh Hope…I wish I could bring you peace.”

He pulls back, fingers cracking as he releases his tight grip on her in favor of wiping his eyes. “It’s not your job.” He stands then and wipes her tears away too before hugging her close. It’s better like this, on equal footing.

“You really are stupid sometimes,” Snow says.

Hope looks over Serah’s shoulder, frowning. Snow raises an eyebrow.

“I mean it,” he continues. “Serah and I don’t have the answers but we’re here, Hope. Don’t make all the mistakes I did, thinking I was alone with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I almost lost myself in Yusnaan with that kind of thinking.”

Serah steps back, sniffing once before giving him a shaken smile. “It’s not my job to convince you that it’s worth building a life for yourself again, you’re right. But I want to be here for you this time if you decide to do it, not just popping in an out every once in a while when I need something from you.”

“Even if I keep crying on you at random?” Hope asks with a nervous smile.

“Even then,” Snow says. “Actually, it’s probably better if you do that more. You clearly need to let some of that out.”

Hope flushes and ducks his head. “My dad never liked how much I complained and later it just…people looked to me to lead them, not to share in their fears.”

“Then let us teach you,” Serah says, reaching out to hold his hand with hers. “We’ve found the peace we could and we have a little more practice with it. I’m not saying that Snow and I aren’t both still struggling in our own ways or anything because we are but I think you need someone to teach you how to be human again. You spent too long not being able to be one.”

He stares at their clasped hands and then nods. “Yeah. I need that. Really.” He looks up at her. “Thank you, both of you. You don’t have to-“

Snow groans and stands up. “We’re doing it because we want to so stop saying that. You’re not a burden Hope.” He steps closer and reaches out to squeeze Hope’s shoulder. “You never were.”

“I should…probably defer a year,” Hope says as he releases Serah’s hand. “I honestly don’t think I could handle university in this condition. It’s only a few weeks in after all…”

“You can stay here,” Serah says. “We have the space.”

“Are you sure?” Part of him wants to. He yearns to have them both around so that he can lean on them when he needs to, and yet another part of him is terrified of the vulnerability. He really doesn’t need to embarrass himself anymore. Though to be fair, he’s not sure he _could_at this point.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t mind manual labor,” Snow says. “We’ve got some serious wood to haul in before winter.”

Mindless physical labor was something Hope had come to appreciate when the Chaos had first destroyed their world. It had given him time to think. The idea that he could have that again is tempting in its own way.

"That sounds nice,” Hope says. “Thank you.”

-.-

Hope wakes up the next morning feeling the best and worst he’s ever felt in a long time. His whole body hurts, a bone deep ache that seems to have been there the whole time and it’s only now that he’s aware of it, and he feels like he’s on the verge of tears. That, somehow, is what feels great though. He’s _feeling _something and this time it’s without the edge of panic that comes with trying to shut it down.

He cries in the shower, but not like yesterday with the body wracking sobs. It’s just a steady stream of tears that loosens the ever present knot in his chest a little bit more. He’s not sure _why_he’s crying – he has a lot of different things to mourn after all. It’s just nice not to hold it in. Every inch of him seems to be more sensitive as a result. The heat of the water is amazing, but the towel, despite its fluffiness, feels like steel wool on his skin.

It makes sense though. After all, repression is an all or nothing game. Every feeling, emotional and physical, dampens to nothing or at least close to it. Turning it back on again means it all comes back.

Hope gets dressed and then returns to his room, not quite ready to face Snow or Serah yet. It’s actually nice to be alone with his own thoughts now that he’s thinking a little more clearly. He knows he’d been clinging tight to those mental barriers. He just didn’t know how tightly until he’d finally let them go. When he sits on the bed, he has a good view of Serah’s garden so he sits there when he emails Lightning.

_Hey,_

_ You made a good call telling me to come visit Serah. I’ve been avoiding dealing with a lot of things and maybe you’ve noticed. Either way, what I was doing wasn’t sustainable. I’m going to take the year off. Thanks for telling me to come here. I’m not sure how much longer I could’ve kept that up. _

_ -Hope_

There’s a knock on his door and he calls out his consent before he hits send. Snow opens the door as he shuts his laptop and steps inside with two steaming mugs.

“I come with coffee, black,” Snow says. “At least for you. Mine is 90% creamer because I don’t hate my taste buds like you and Serah do.”

Hope smiles and accepts the mug, heart pounding a little faster when Snow opts for sitting at the end of the bed with his back against the wall. The last time he had feelings,_romantic _feelings, for Snow was when he was sixteen. Maybe those feelings had stayed through the centuries and he just hadn’t noticed, or maybe they were back now because of his new bodily autonomy and emotional freedom. Either way, it’s difficult to deal with, not to mention highly inappropriate. He hopes it isn’t showing all over his face.

“So how are you feeling?” Snow asks.

“A lot,” Hope says with a laugh. “A little too much, but that’s better than nothing at all.”

“It’s hard though, like a bad wound,” Snow says. He takes a sip of his coffee, thinking. “Fighting the pain just makes it hurt more, but if you accept it for what it is, it’s easier to bare.”

“I was just thinking that,” Hope says. “The body is linked tightly with the mind. Denying the experiences of one denies the experiences of the other and ultimately it comes back to make everything worse. It’s not just my emotions that hurt, it’s my body too. I feel sensitive to everything and…I kept crying last night and this morning.” It’s embarrassing to mention, but he does it anyways. He can talk about these things, he just has to convince himself it’s okay is all.

Snow winces. “I remember that. After Lightning saved me, those last days in Yusnaan were too much to handle. I built that city as a way to distract all of us from the end, but once I stopped running, the revelries were like an overload to the system.”

“So any tips on dealing with it?” Hope asks.

“Don’t fight it,” Snow says. “That’s the most important part.”

“It’s instinctive almost,” Hope says.

Snow laughs. “We’re centuries old and we still can’t beat our instincts. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“Instincts keep us alive. How many people lost their lives when we lost the passage of time itself because they grew complacent?” Hope asks.

“Too many.” There’s a faraway look in Snow’s eyes now and he almost regrets mentioning it. “It’s the whole reason Yusnaan had a highly trained military guard. If those in the Wildlands and Dead Dunes survived by honing their instincts, those who came to Yusnaan survived by dulling them. I protected them, sure, but I helped them lose their humanity too.”

“It’s okay Snow,” Hope says. He sets the coffee aside and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. “You were doing what you could. Some people wouldn’t have survived at all if they couldn’t run away. In a way, you saved a lot of people.”

“Yeah…maybe.” Snow shakes his head, almost as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it before giving Hope a familiar smile. “You ready to do some work today?”

Hope nods. He could press, but he’s not sure he has the energy to get into anything more now.

-.-

Back in the first few years after Cocoon’s near miss fall, Hope struggled with his new-found weakness. Pushing himself all day made him tired, and he found himself struggling to keep up with the pace of the average laborer. He’d built up his endurance over time. Like everything else though, he’d lost that again when they created a new world and he hadn’t really gotten the chance to build it back. Which means fifteen minutes into chopping dead wood in the far reaches of their territory, he aches all over and just wants to lay down.

Snow takes pity on him and has him start loading the pieces in a wheelbarrow to haul back to the house. That work is easier on his shoulders, but by the fifth load he gives up and sits down on top of one of the stacks of wood to catch his breath. Serah appears out the back door a moment later with a glass of lemonade. He accepts it and gulps down several swallows.

“Snow forgets that most of us can’t keep up with him,” Serah says. “Plus, no offense, but you’re pretty scrawny.”

Hope flushes and looks down at his bare chest, regretting taking his shirt off in the first place. “Yeah…”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it badly,” Serah says. “You’re a very handsome man, Hope, you just haven’t been doing this sort of work.”

That makes it worse. He could handle Serah thinking he’s lacking in the looks department in comparison to Snow, but knowing she thinks he’s attractive even objectively makes him want to wrap up in a parka. Back in his Academy days, he’d been clueless on knowing how to deal with Alyssa’s attraction to him. Really, he just doesn’t know how to deal with any of it. In that way, he supposes he very much is still a child.

“Hope?” Serah asks.

Hope isn’t sure what he means to say, but what comes out is, “I have a crush on your husband and I’m sorry.”

Serah stares at him and then lets out a loud laugh before smiling. “Okay, let’s take this inside.”

"We really don’t have to,” Hope says as mortification washes over him. “I can just leave.”

“Hope, no, it’s okay,” Serah says. “Really, just come inside and we can talk all this out.”

Hope follows her inside, swallowing the rest of his drink as he does so. Serah sits on the couch and Hope takes the seat he had taken yesterday, hoping they’ll just be able to drop this.

“Look, Hope…I don’t know how much you remember from after the Chaos came, but you and Snow weren’t just friends,” Serah says.

His mouth goes dry. It’s not surprising that over several hundred years, he’s forgotten some things, but he’d like to think he’d remember his first kiss at least. “But I…I think I’d remember if we…”

“Oh you didn’t,” Serah says. “Snow said it was really just a discussion you had, a promise to sort it out once everything was fixed. We both just assumed you weren’t interested anymore when you didn’t bring it up, plus there was the whole you came back as a sixteen year old with a younger body thing too.”

“I’m sorry,” Hope says. “I…don’t remember much from that time, but I’m sorry I betrayed you-“

"Hope, you didn’t. No one would expect you or Snow to put your lives on hold in the hopes that the world would be fixed and I would return,” Serah says. “And Snow and I have talked about it. If you both want to pursue that, I’m okay with it if you’re okay with me.” She frowns then. “Really, the only thing that concerns me is making sure you don’t leap into something when you’re still recovering.”

"That’s…yeah. I mean, I’ve never even kissed anyone,” Hope says.

Serah’s eyes widen. “Never?”

“It never came up,” Hope says, shame sinking low in his gut.

"In all that time?”

Hope looks down. “I had that crush on Snow for a few years, but then I got caught up in the Academy and sure, people were interested but I was too uncomfortable with the idea. I guess something came of it if Snow and I talked, but it wasn’t like we had a whole lot of time.” He shakes his head, frowning. “At most I remember those events. When I try and remember how I felt about them, that’s always been hit or miss. How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not, Hope,” Serah says. “I’m just sorry you never got to experience things like a normal kid or adult.”

"But…I don’t know, you’re probably right about this not being a good time to explore my romantic life,” Hope says. “Plus, I’m sure my complete lack of experience changes things.”

“I can’t speak for Snow, but I doubt it will,” Serah says. “I’m 100% behind you both if you want to pursue it, I just want you to put yourself first.”

"Right. I guess part of me just wants to go for it, especially since I know I can but…I think you’re right,” Hope says. “I should probably slow down.”

"Talk to Snow,” Serah says. “You two have some unfinished business and either way, that should be dealt with.”

“I’ll head back out now I guess,” Hope says. “And again, I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve just come here and upended your lives.”

“Oh please. Better to have this than become boring old people,” Serah says. “Here, I’ll get some drinks for you to take out to him.”

Hope rubs his eyes as Serah gets up and heads for the kitchen. He really doesn’t know how he keeps ending up in these situations.

-.-

“I guess since you brought refreshments I can forgive you for abandoning me out here,” Snow says as he accepts the bottled lemonade Hope hands him when he returns. 

“Yeah...” Hope looks at the wood Snow’s managed to pile up while he was gone. “Serah and I were talking about some stuff, mostly what you and I did after the Chaos.”

“Oh. Right.”

When Hope looks at him, Snow’s expression is unreadable. He takes a few gulps of water and leans back against the tree.

“Look, Hope. I didn’t bring it up earlier because even with your real age, it didn’t seem appropriate,” Snow says.

“I don’t even remember the conversation we had,” Hope says. “I don’t doubt that it did, it seems like something I’d do…”

“Wait. So you _are _interested?” Snow asks, expression morphing into surprise.

Hope flushes. “I’ve been interested on and off over the years including um…now. I just feel like if I can’t remember that conversation, how do you know you fell in love with the same me?”

“We all change, Hope, but who I fell in love with? You’re still him,” Snow says. He steps closer and Hope’s chest tightens in anticipation as Snow crowds close, big hands settling on his bare shoulders. “Do you remember what you did? How you organized the people and divvied up the work to keep us alive?”

“For the most part yeah,” Hope says. “But…I don’t know if I want to be that guy. I’ve done that twice and it didn’t matter.”

“Even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter, not when I know that you’re a person who cares about making the world better,” Snow says. “You kept me going back then when I wanted to give up.”

“I didn’t know,” Hope says, looking up at him. He’s nearly six feet now, but Snow still towers over him. “I want to pursue this, but I’m obviously not really stable right now, so I get if you don’t want to, especially since I don’t have any experience.”

Snow’s fingers tighten and when he speaks, his voice is strained. “So I’d be your first everything?”

“Yeah, which you’re the only person who I’ve thought about so I’m…okay with it. Serah said it’s nothing to be ashamed of but it’s been literally centuries and I haven’t even managed to do one thing,” Hope says. “I wouldn’t know where to begin and I already embarrass myself enough.”

“I feel like such a pervert right now because honestly, knowing I could give you new experiences after everything is…” Snow releases him as if burned. “It’s a lot.”

Hope sucks in a tight breath, the knowledge of just how into him Snow was finally registering with him. “I might look like I’m young, and I might not have much experience in this area, but it doesn’t make you perverted to be into me. And…I’d really like it if I could finally kiss someone.”

“Didn’t you just say that you’re worried you can’t handle a relationship?” Snow asks.

“I have a whole third life time to fix it if it’s a mistake,” Hope says, not entirely sure where the sudden courage is coming from. He thinks about that morning, how he’d longed to lean into Snow’s embrace and more than, and about how now he could do just that if he just made a move or if he could convince Snow to. “Can you kiss me? Please?”

Snow steps forward again, one giant step and then his lips are on Hope’s, hands cupping his face and tilting his head back as he robs Hope of his breath. It’s…a lot. He’s still sensitive anyways, and that combined with the fact that it’s his first kiss ever, it makes his head spin. Hope reaches out to grab at Snow’s arms, blunt fingernails digging into Snow’s skin when Snow deepens the kiss. He’s gentle, leading Hope instead of overwhelming. Still, he feels like every hair is standing on end and there’s warmth radiating out from his chest and through his arms. He can’t believe he’s waited this long.

Why the hell had he hesitated when he’d had a chance so much earlier?

Snow draws back and Hope rocks back on his heels to lean against one of the trees. He looks as dazed as Hope feels. The way Snow always talked about Serah, Hope hadn’t truly thought he was capable of loving someone else even with both Snow and Serah’s assurances. Seeing the look in Snow’s eyes now, he thinks he gets it. With so many years in him, the idea that he’d only love one person is ridiculous, Hope just can’t believe he’d be on the receiving end.

“That was…great,” Hope says. His lips tingle, his mouth oversensitive so even his words cause a fresh burst of tingling.

"We should finish working,” Snow says. He reaches out, thumb brushing over Hope’s bottom lip.

Hope resists the urge to do something as weird as drawing Snow’s thumb into his mouth. He feels like some deep hunger has been awakened. The knowledge that he doesn’t have to hide his desire doesn’t help either.

“Yeah, work is definitely a good idea.”

-.-

The rest of the day passes well. Hope’s body aches from the hard work, but in the evening, he gets to curl in Snow’s side while Serah rests his head in his lap. It’s such a dramatic change from the night before, it almost doesn’t feel real. He shoves that though aside and focuses on the TV program about the vast rain forests on a different continent. That doesn’t help. In the end, panic swamps him and he ends up with his head between his knees trying to match his breathing with Serah’s.

By the time he feels like he can breathe again, his body is little more than a wrung out towel for all he can move. Serah takes him to the bathroom and hands him a wet cloth to clean his face off with while she sits on the counter and looks him over with a critical eye. Hope wipes his face clean, taking a moment to enjoy the cool cloth on his hot skin.

“I guess this is what you were so worried about,” Hope says, tossing the cloth in the sink.

“A little, yeah,” she says. She reaches out and grabs his hand. “What triggered it?”

Hope squeezes her hand. He’s not sure how much a simple gesture can be so calming, but it is. “It’s the same thing. It’s just the idea that none of this is real, like in no world could I ever have things go right.”

“It never has,” Serah says. “It’s going to take a while for that instinct to go away. Snow and I both still struggle with it.”

A bitter laugh escapes him. “After everything we’ve given, we don’t get to just move on with our lives without something ruining it.”

"It’s not fair but…I think we all know life isn’t,” Serah says. “Hopefully, we can help you find some of the peace we’ve found ourselves.”

The thought of Snow, and the kiss they shared, brings a smile to his lips. “Guess I just need to stay positive, even when I have trouble believing those things are real.”

“I found it hard to believe too at first, back when Snow first asked me on a date,” Serah says. “But one thing you can always count on with Snow is honesty to a fault.”

“Oh, ouch.”

Both Serah and Hope start, not having heard Snow step into the bedroom and approach the bathroom.

“Hey, I’d prefer an overly honest man to a liar any day,” Serah says. “I’ll be out in the living room. You two should talk.”

She squeezes Hope’s hand and flashes them a smile. Snow raises an eyebrow at him.

“Let’s uh, maybe talk in your room,” Snow suggests.

Hope nods, then gathers his courage and puts his hand in Snow’s before tugging him into his bedroom. There’s only the one bedside lamp Hope can turn on. It bathes the room in soft intimate lighting which helps calm Hope even further as he reclines back against the head board.

“So,” Snow says, taking a seat on the end of the bed like he had that morning. Things had certainly changed in the last twelve hours. “I assume what happened had something to do with me.”

“Sort of. It’s not your fault though,” Hope says. “It’s like I said with my parents. I just keep feeling like some of this isn’t real.”

“And what, my being in love with you is especially unbelievable or something?” Snow asks with a laugh.

Hope flushes, hands twisting together in his lap. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. I don’t really get why _anyone_is interested in me, but especially you since you’ve got _Serah_of all people so why would you need anyone else or-“

“Okay, first, it’s not a competition,” Snow says. “You and Serah are different people and I love you for different reasons, but I guess if I think about, you and Serah do have something in common with each other.”

"Huh?”

“You both really care about other people. I try to do right by people but at the end of the day, I always act selfishly. You and Serah never have,” Snow says. He shakes his head, a somewhat sad smile on his lips. “Even knowing it would kill her, she took on Caius and you…you left everything you knew behind to travel years into the future to help her save the world.”

"Don’t sell yourself short,” Hope says. “You’ve done so many things I never could.”

Snow laughs. “Like what? All I’ve ever done is charge in throwing punches without thinking.”

“That’s not true!” Hope sits up and meets Snow’s eyes. “Those first few years after Cocoon fell, I had nightmares about becoming a l’cie again, and honestly that’s one of the things I fear most still, like…one day I’ll wake up and I’ll see that brand and all of this will have just been some weird dream. But you became a l’cie again so you could save Light and help Serah. I…I could never do that.”

Snow opens his mouth like he’s going to argue before he stops, head thunking back against the wall as he looks up at the ceiling and thinks. “I guess you’re right. It doesn’t sound as selfish when you put it that way, even if I was doing it all to make Serah happy. But hey, we’re getting distracted. I had a second point to make.”

"Oh, sorry,” Hope says.

“There’s a lot about you that I admire Hope,” Snow says. He doesn’t look at Hope now. “You’re what I wish I could be in a lot of ways, a natural born leader in a way that I have to fake until people believe me. There’s a lot to admire about you that you don’t have in common with Serah.”

"I...didn’t realize,” Hope says. And honestly, he didn’t. He’d thrived in leadership positions, yes, but he hadn’t felt comfortable in them at first. Though, he supposes by the time he and Snow reconnected, that instinct to lead and organize and keep people calm had embedded itself within him already. “It’s nice to hear, but it doesn’t stop the panic attacks.”

"I can tell you every day the reasons I love you if it helps,” Snow says, meeting his eyes once more. “Then maybe it won’t seem so unbelievable.”

Hope smiles. “I appreciate it, Snow, but I think it’s going to take more than that, and it’s going to have to come from me more than anyone. I have to accept this as my reality.”

“I just wish I could help…”

“You are, you and Serah both. I don’t think I’d be confronting any of this at all if it weren’t for yesterday,” Hope says. He frowns, looking out the window. “I wonder if Light was wrong…”

“About what?”

He draws his knees up, a feeling of unease washing through him as his thoughts continue down their current path. “I don’t remember much of anything after Light woke up, just bits and pieces you know? But one thing I remember is how she and the rest of you were so against the idea of people’s souls being remade in a way that they forgot everything they’d lost.”

“Hope-“

“And part of me,” Hope presses on, quickly before the thought escapes him. “Wishes that we had done that, that I couldn’t remember…” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean it really, it’s just that I’m not going to get better any time soon and knowing that I could’ve just been reborn and had my parents and grown up the way I was meant to is…tempting.”

Snow stays quiet and Hope thinks he’s done it, he’s finally shown Snow what he was getting into with him, shown him all the mess and the complicated feelings and the inability to know what was real and what wasn’t. Surely it would be too much. He’s not expecting Snow to grab his wrist and tug him across the bed and into his arms. It’s hardly comfortable with the way his knees dig into Snow’s thigh and his hip.

Neither of them say anything and after a moment, Hope relaxes. He shifts a little, straddling Snow’s lap properly and wrapping his arms around his neck as he sinks into Snow’s grip and warm weight. Snow rests his cheek on top of Hope’s head and sighs.

“Look, Hope…it’s okay. I get why you would want that,” Snow says. “But I’m glad we made the choices we all did. It was hell but now I know the people in my life, well, there’s no one else I’d rather have. It came with a price, but how many people get to have friendships that stay strong even through the centuries?”

“I guess I didn’t think of it like that,” Hope mumbles into Snow’s neck. “I’ve just been thinking about what I’ve been missing…” He laughs, short and quiet, before closing his eyes. “I guess I haven’t changed all that much from what I was at fourteen, huh?”

“It’s not childish to just want things to be okay,” Snow says. “It’s been a long day. You should probably sleep.”

“Just…stay like this a little longer.”

Hope wants to cling to the temporary safeness of the moment for as long as he can.

-.-

All the talking from the day before seems to have worn him out. Hope lays around in bed the next morning until well into the afternoon, corresponding with Light over email about the latest developments as well as his somewhat problematic longing to not remember anything from their past. His last email doesn’t garner a response right away, but he’s not worried. Light, like him, tends to go dark for days to even weeks at a time only to show up again like nothing had happened.

He wants to spend the rest of the day in silence, or perhaps asleep, but he can’t quite justify that. Instead, he gets up and showers before heading through Serah and Snow’s bedroom to the living room beyond which is empty. Frowning, he heads for the kitchen. There’s a pad of paper with a note there in Serah’s curly handwriting telling him they’d be in town until night fall. Next to it is a hand-drawn map, this time in Snow’s chicken scratch scrawl of the surrounding woods with trails he must’ve made on his own marked out.

It’s a not so subtle hint, Hope thinks, to go outside and get some fresh air.

While it wasn’t his intention, it seems like a good idea. He doesn’t really want to interact with anyone after all the talking he did yesterday, and spending a day outside when he’d spent the last four years in his bedroom or in a café in downtown seemed…healthy. He raids the cupboard for some protein bars and refills the water bottle from yesterday which was still sitting on the counter unwashed before heading out towards the wood pile that had grown substantially from their work earlier. He takes the path on the other end of the yard than the one they took before.

The thing that he’s still not used to is being able to walk through nature and not worry about monsters. This world doesn’t have them. Wild animals, sure, but they tended to avoid humans instead of chase after them like any other type of prey. There’s no need to carry a weapon, and magic…magic is far away. He misses that more than he thought he would. He’d had a hard time adjusting the first year to the distinct flow of magic he’d grown so used to especially after becoming a l’cie. Magic had always been something he excelled at, but the power at his disposal during and after being a l’cie had felt like a second thing within him.

Like Alexander.

And it, like his Eidolon, was long gone, lost to the unseen realm forever.

It was similar to the feeling he’d had when he’d first awoken after Bhunivelze stole him away, alone in the Ark with a gaping hole where his anger and desperation should have been. It’s less severe this way; losing part of his soul was not the same as losing his magic or Alexander. But he still struggled with the emptiness from time to time. It was a complete counterpoint to the rest of the time when he felt like his soul was too big and would one day spill out from his eyes and ears and mouth. 

So lost in his thoughts, Hope doesn’t even realize how far he’d gone until the forest opens up to a pond, the tree line coming to an abrupt halt. He frowns and looks down at the map, but it ends when the forest does. Hesitation lingers for just a moment before he jogs down towards the pond. There’s a broken dock at the edge, the wooden planks broken and listing into the water, algae crawling over them, and a cluster of ducks swims on the far side not paying him any mind.

Hope sits on the shore and digs one of the protein bars out of his pocket and begins to eat. He’ll head back after this. No sense in getting lost and making himself be even more of a trouble to deal with. He knows Serah and Snow don’t see him that way, but still, they make him feel like a child in a lot of ways, and maybe that’s because Hope’s memories of them all being on equal footing are foggier than the rest of his memories or maybe they just see him that way because of how much of a mess he currently is.

It’s still hard to think that Snow _wants_him. Snow could have anybody, but instead he chose Hope because he saw who Hope really was and still wanted him. Of course, he knew who Snow was, knew his flaws better than anyone else could hope to and his crush had survived centuries. They were both flawed. It didn’t make Snow unlikable, so why would it make him?

That thought process leads him down another. He couldn’t ever remember feeling as safe as he did last night, pressed up close to Snow with their arms wrapped tight around each other as they stole one another’s warmth. He’d never really been close to someone like that, or slowed down enough to just exist in the presence of another person. Running the Academy had taken all his time and energy and despite how responsible he felt for his coworkers and those beneath him, he’d never felt like he could trust them with himself or his feelings or his desire to just…_touch_someone. Those urges weren’t useful. They were a distraction.

Besides, if he went around just cuddling with everyone he could, or fucking anyone who wanted to, it’d be impossible to retain the respect they had for him and lead them properly. And maybe that’s what’s reawakened his dormant feelings for Snow. He doesn’t have to be responsible for him. Snow can take care of himself. Hope can let him in because at the end of the day, he doesn’t need Snow to listen to him or obey him without question. Such a dynamic is a relief. Snow doesn’t need him to be a leader, but he doesn’t expect him to be a child either.

When he thinks about it that way, the shift doesn’t seem all that dramatic or sudden. Instead, it feels like a long time coming. Only Serah had seen how he grew into a capable adult after all. Snow left before he could prove saving Cocoon wasn’t just a fluke and then Sazh fell off the map shortly after. For them, he must’ve seemed like a completely new person. With that new dynamic coupled with their history, it must’ve been easy for the protective feelings to morph into something else.

The bushes rustle on the other end of the pond and Hope freezes when a stag emerges Its antlers are huge and he remembers then that stags can be aggressive and do a lot of damage to humans when they feel so inclined. He maintains eye contact with it for a moment and then drops his gaze. He can’t remember for sure, but he thinks animals see eye contact as a threat and that’s definitely the last thing he wants to be seen as. He watches from under his eyelashes as the stag approaches the water. It lowers its head and begins to drink.

Hope doesn’t dare move, he barely even breaths, so desperate not to startle the creature and make it run or charge. After a minute, the stag straightens and disappears into the woods. Hope slumps as he lets out a rush of breath before leaning back on his hands and looking up at the sky. Something about the whole interaction leaves him feeling lonely. The stag was majestic and dangerous in the way Alexander was, but in a world devoid of magic, there was no way to ever share the same bond with another being.

Maybe he needs to get a pet.

Hope gets up and shoves the wrappers into his pocket before picking up his water bottle and heading back down the path he’d come down, lost in his thoughts. The more he thinks about it, the more obvious the tragedy of a world without magic becomes. Yes, they’re free of Gods and Goddesses, but the Chaos, the _magic_, still lurks in the unseen realm, it’s just out of reach to anyone alive. Which means he could access it, if he wanted. That just begged the question of whether he should. He’d seen the damage unfettered Chaos had done to their world. It would be foolish to risk it happening again just so he wouldn’t feel so lonely.

Disgust wells up within him. Have the years truly made him so selfish that he’d contemplate such a thing? If so, he certainly isn’t the man he hoped to be. But still, wasn’t he allowed to be a little selfish now and then? What was so wrong with wanting something that other people also longed for? He knew how much Lightning missed Odin. Feeling that loss and wanting their Eidolons back at their side wasn’t inherently bad.

Hope groans in frustration. He wishes he could stop analyzing every emotion he ever experienced, but he almost needs to. It’s instinctive, a double check that he’s truly free of Bhunivelze’s influence. After all, if the Chaos still exists, there’s a chance Bhunivelze does too. Perhaps he’s still trapped in a crystal sleep, or perhaps he’s dead, though Hope doubts it’s possible to ever truly kill a God.

Which means there’s always a chance that the scars he feels on the inside of his mind aren’t just scars but wounds Bhunivelze could still slip through.

The thought alone sends a rush of panic ricocheting through him so fast he’s on his knees gasping through tears in seconds. He coughs and tries to slow his breath. It helps, a little, at least enough that he can catch his breath and get to his feet. The panic rarely gives him warning and for the life of him, he can’t identify what topics set him off in such a way. It’s been worse the past year, like his mind was finally rebelling against the repression.

Sipping water as he walks soothes the knots in his stomach, but by the time he reaches the house all he wants to do is crawl back into bed. His face still feels hot. The constant panic attacks and subsequent tears have left his eyes sore too. Instead of sleeping the rest of the day away, he cleans up his water bottle and throws away his trash before heading back to his room and settling in with his laptop.

Lightning emailed him while he was gone, a quick note that she’d be swinging through the area tomorrow night. From there, he starts going through his usual websites to read up on any technological advancements and compare them to his memories of the old world’s scientific discovery. Given the trends he’s observed over the years, he has a feeling humanity will be moving in an entirely new direction. After all, there’s no magic to blend their machines with. But will new technology change humanity’s nature?

The roar of Snow and Serah’s bikes interrupt his thoughts. He’s still debating on whether or not to continue to hide away when someone knocks on his door and given the heaviness of it, he assumes it’s Snow.

“Come in,” he says, suddenly aware that it’s the first time he’s spoken all day.

Snow opened the door and tapped it shut behind him with his foot. “Hey there. I see you took the map.”

“I did a lot of thinking. Too much of it maybe,” Hope says.

“About what?” Snow asks, leaning back against the door.

For a moment, Hope forgets how to talk, his brain stalling as he tries to determine what he wants more – Snow on the bed with him or right where he is. He shakes his head to clear it.

“Do you miss Shiva?” he asks, which is a much less embarrassing question.

Snow frowns. “I…yeah. Most days. They were always in the back of my mind and I was so used to them that when I was here and making decisions without their input…it was hard to adjust. I’m assuming you’ve been thinking about Alexander?”

Hope nods. “It’s like you said. He was always there, and it wasn’t like he spoke to me but I could tell when he was happy or displeased. And then I was thinking I miss the Chaos because without it, I can’t have him, but that just made me feel guilty because of how much we all sacrificed to lock that Chaos away-“

"Alright, take a breath,” Snow says, approaching the bed.

Hope obeys, suddenly aware of his racing heart. He takes a few slow breaths as Snow sits down on the bed, leaning back against the wall at the end.

“Sorry,” he says.

“It’s fine,” Snow says. “But Hope it’s not wrong to want him back. It doesn’t mean you want all the terrible shit that went with it.”

“I should be past it,” Hope says. “I’m adult enough at this point…”

"You were more of an adult than I was when you were fourteen,” Snow says with a laugh. “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, Hope.”

“It’s just…” Hope trails off, leaning back against the pillows and looking up at the ceiling because it can be impossible to meet Snow’s eyes. “When I feel things that intensely, it makes me wonder if I’m opening myself up to Bhunivelze’s influence again.”

“He’s gone, Hope,” Snow says, confident in the way Hope never can be. “He can’t get you from where he is. If Caius can fight Light into a stalemate for centuries, even if Bhunivelze is awake again in the Chaos, he’s not gonna be able to get past Caius.”

“As long as I know he’s there…” Hope shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s the one fear I can’t rationalize away.”

Snow doesn’t say anything and Hope’s chest tightens, worried that he finally did, finally made Snow realize he wasn’t worth dealing with. Then a hand circles his wrist and tugs him upright. Another tug has him back in Snow’s lap, a place that quickly is becoming a place he feels safe in. 

“You don’t have to apologize for how you feel,” Snow says. “And honestly if I were you, I’d be fucking terrified. We’ve all been through a lot, but we never had some shitty god possess us.”

“It’s…” Hope closes his eyes as he buries his face against Snow’s neck. “I think it’s why it’s hard to believe any of this is real. How do I know he’s not messing with me?”

He can barely get the words out. He regrets them almost as soon as they’re said, terrified that he’s right and acknowledging it will break it all apart and he’ll be trapped in his own head again as someone else speaks with his mouth.

“I don’t have an answer for that,” Snow says, hugging Hope close. “I wish I did.”

-.-

Hope falls asleep on the couch with his head in Serah’s lap while watching TV. He doesn’t mean to. Her fingers in his hair soothe the stress of the day away until he’s asleep and he has no idea how much time has passed when he comes back in that state somewhere between asleep and waking. Serah’s hand stills rests against his neck. At some point, Snow had joined them on the couch and Hope can feel the warmth of his hand on his ankle.

“I’m just worried you know?” Snow says. “He’s so detached from reality, he can’t trust his own senses. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“I get it, but you should trust him more,” Serah says. “How is he supposed to trust himself if we doubt him?”

“I don’t doubt him. I just don’t want to hurt him,” Snow says. “He’s been suffering alone the last what, six years? He hasn’t let anyone in, he’s been terrified his parents aren’t real, and none of us thought to check in. I didn’t think to check in. I just assumed no news was good news so how he can he trust me to help him when I haven’t?”

“Snow…” Serah’s hand leaves his neck.

Hope stretches and pushes himself upright, settling between them before they can say anything else. For a moment, he debates letting them think he’d just woken up. He doesn’t contemplate long.

“Snow, you had no way of knowing,” Hope says. “Even if you’d asked or checked in, I would’ve just brushed you off.”

“But I-“

"No, stop with the guilt complex,” Hope says. “I get that you want to save everyone, even now, but you can’t. I wasn’t ready to face…this. But I am now, and you’re here, and that’s what matters.”

Snow closes his mouth, then gives a sheepish smile. “I guess I haven’t learned that lesson very well.”

“To the surprise of no one,” Hope says, but he’s teasing and it works because Snow’s smile broadens. “I appreciate that you’re both here now. I just hope I’m not too much of a burden as I try to work through well…all of this.”

“You aren’t,” Serah says, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “Hope, when the rest of the world doubted me, when I doubted myself and felt I was going crazy, you and Snow both did everything you could to help. You deserve the same kindness. Now, if you two are done talking about how unworthy you are of each other, my favorite cooking show is about to start.”

Snow and Hope both flush, then laugh.

-.-

That night, Hope sleeps more peacefully than he expects to. The next day, he spends his time in the garden with Serah, pulling weeds and clearing a smaller area closer to the woods of brush for Snow to till later in the day. After a few hours, his back aches and his legs feel like they won’t ever uncramp, but he’s grateful for the work. Somehow, it feels productive. Everything in his mind is still a mess, but the dirt under his hands is real, and the vegetables they check for pests are real, and the ache in his body is real.

Serah pours them both lemonade and they sit on the front porch on the bench Snow built.

“So…can I ask you something personal?” Hope asks once he’s downed half the glass.

“Of course,” Serah says, tucking her legs under herself and resting her head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“I just uh…feel a bit like a kid, especially when I think about me and Snow and how he was my first kiss,” Hope says. One he starts, the words spill out of him. “And I feel like I’m going to make a fool of myself and then he’ll treat me like I’m too young or naïve or…I don’t know.”

Serah tilts her head just enough to sip her lemonade before settling in against him again. “Well, would that be a bad thing? To be treated like a young adult discovering his wants and desires for the first time?”

Hope rubs his fingers on the cool and wet glass, grounding himself with the physical sensations. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be treated like I’m dumb but I don’t want to be treated like I know what I’m doing when I don’t either. I want to figure these things out like a normal person does and before everything I guess you two were…normal, right?”

“I suppose so. Even if we were a little too idealistic,” she says. “But he was like that with me too, hesitant I mean. Part of it was just because he was big, even back then.”

Hope splutters, going red and Serah laughs, smack his stomach with the back of her hand.

“Not like that,” she says, still laughing. “He’s always just been worried about hurting people on accident because he’s pretty much bigger than anyone he’s ever dated or met.”

"Can’t really relate to that,” Hope says, looking back down at his glass of lemonade. “It’s always been the opposite for me. I’ve always been small and fragile, even after becoming a l’cie, so I guess fear has always come naturally to me.”

“Snow isn’t like that at all,” Serah says. She reaches up and tugs one of Hope’s hands free so she can lace her fingers with his. “When I was taken by the Fal’Cie, that was the first time he was afraid, he said. I think even now after everything, he’s not used to the feeling. He doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“So you’re saying he won’t do anything first because he’s scared?”

Serah nods into his shoulder. “He doesn’t ever want to coerce someone into doing something. The only way he can do that is not initiating.”

“Is he still like that with you?” Hope asks.

“Most the time,” Serah says. “But don’t worry about being the one to initiate. He’s over the moon with you. There’s nothing you could do that would make him think you were being dumb or stupid, trust me.”

“But what about the other night?” Hope asks, and really, that’s the thing that’s been bugging him the most. “He thinks I’m a child, that I don’t know what reality is.”

"Do you?”

Hope freezes, the cold feeling of the lemonade in his hand melting away, the tickling sensation of Serah’s hair against his cheek fading to nothing, the world’s color slipping out of focus. Serah’s hand squeezes his and like a slap to the face, it all comes back into focus. A trip of his mind. A tease, a mocking moment that digs under his ribs and asks him if what he’d felt had just been a matter of dissociation or if it was a glitch in the fantasy world Bhunivelze had spun for him to keep him quiet and compliant.

“Hope, drink,” Serah says, voice steady as she guides the glass to his lips.

He obeys, tastes sugar bursting over his tongue, feels the soft scratch of Serah’s painted nails against the back of his hand.

She takes it from him when he’s done and sets it on the porch before slipping her arm around his shoulders.

“I guess I don’t,” he says, voice breathless. “I think I do, sometimes, but most the time it’s like I said. I haven’t…really accepted that any of this is real. Not deep down.”

“It’s okay,” she says.

He leans into her weight and lets his eyes slide shut. Maybe when he opens them again, it will all be real.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments as I said in the first chapter would be loved! I'm so glad this is finished and out in the world. I hope you enjoy!

__**One month later**  
  
  
  
Cool fingers stroke his cheek, rousing him from his slumber. His head pounds. The ground feels like cold rock beneath him, the air stale and dead in his lungs. He is not where he fell asleep in a tent with Sazh and Dajh. Practice keeps his breath steady and body limp as though he’s still sleeping. It’s easy then to snap his hand out and grab the wrist of his captor to yank them to the side before neatly straddling them and preparing a well-aimed punch. 

_But he stops because it’s his mom. _

_He scrambles off of her, mind racing. It has to be some sort of dream, a trick of the mind. White walls, white cement floor, no lights and yet bright as day. His mother stands and offers a hand. _

_He doesn’t know how, but he knows if he takes it, it’s all over. _

_“Who are you?” Hope asks. _

_The kind smile on her face slips away. “You were always the most perceptive of the bunch, weren’t you?”_

_Hope searches for his magic but there’s nothing within him, not even a flicker. _

_“What, you thought I wouldn’t think to suppress your abilities?” his mother asks. “You’ll put up too much of a fight as is, but you’re the only one Lightning trusts enough so it has to be you.”_

_The being wearing his mother’s face steps closer. He reacts the way Snow taught him, steadying his weight before throwing a punch. His mother catches his wrist and yanks but he holds his ground and twists in her grasp to snap his foot towards her side. _

_She blinks out of existence and he stumbles forward. The next thing he knows, he’s on his back with her knee in his gut and a hand at his throat, tightening down and cutting off his air. Pain shoots up his spine as the ground below him erupts in the familiar and comforting glow of Alexander’s summoning sigil and a moment later, a monstrous hand erupts from the ground to wrap around his attacker and toss her away. _

_The ground splits open beneath him but he’s caught by Alexander as he pulls himself into their reality, wherever they are. When he’s on his feet, it’s no longer his mother who stands across from him but Yaag, a face that makes the child within him recoil at the memories his mere face drags up from within him. _

_“Of course you’d be able to summon an Eidolon here,” Yaag all but sneers. _

_"You will not harm my charge, and you will certainly not use him as a vessel to harm his friends.” Alexander’s voice rumbles through their minds, something that is familiar, yes, but something he can only ever remember hearing when close to death. _

_“You will answer to your creator, not some boy,” Yaag says. _

_“I will answer to no one, least of all you Bhunivelze, or have you forgotten how and why we were made?”_

_Hope glances back at his protector. “Bhunivelze? Before Cocoon and the Fal’Cie? That Bhunivelze?”_

_"Enough! I do not need you for what I have planned Alexander,” Bhunivelze says. _

_"All Eidolons hold part of their charges’ souls. You cannot have him without me and I will never let you have me.”_

_"Perhaps you’d be right….if I needed his soul at all.”_

_Alexander lunges in front of Hope with a roar, charging straight for the god. _

_"You must run, Hope! Flee as deep as you can!”_

_Alexander morphs into a circular wall, entrapping Bhunivelze but undoubtedly not for long enough._

_"What do you mean?” Hope asks, panic thick in his voice and chest. _

_He doesn’t get an answer. A shriek pierces the air and Alexander melts to ash before him. _

_"No!” Hope can’t move, can’t flee, too stunned to do anything but stand and stare in horror at the ash as Bhunivelze closes the distance between them. _

_He doesn’t resist when Bhunivelze grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him forward. _

_“That’s good, my pet. If you’d been obedient from the start, it wouldn’t have come to this.”_

_There’s too many years in him not for the callous words to spark rage. The cool flame of fury licks at his insides. It spreads through his hands fills the cavern Alexander‘s loss left behind. _

_"You want me as a vessel to use against Lightning? Go ahead,” he says. He moves fast then, hands grabbing and holding Bhunivelze’s faces between them, fingers clawing into his soft flesh. “But it’s on my terms.”_

_It’s instinct then, and perhaps the magic of where they are, that allows him to reach deep inside and find the soul of his creator, his God. He carves it out, listens to Bhunivelze scream as he pulls the soul of a God inside his own and twines them together, buries himself deep within and sinks in his roots like Alexander said. _

_“You’ll never be rid of me,” he whispers, his lips nearly brushing Bhunivelze’s as he speaks. “I’ll rot you from the inside out and break you down. You’ll never be as strong as a God because you will always have to fight me. Always.”_

_Hope falls to the ground, clutching at his chest as Bhunivelze rages within him and starts to take control one limb at a time. _

_"You’ll never be without me,” he whispers as his lips go numb. “I’ll fight you forever.”_

_He lets the monster swallow him whole. _

_-.-_

Hope wakes up with a sharp inhale. Never a scream. He’d never wanted to bother his parents who were too normal and ill-equipped to deal with his night terrors. Even in the quiet though, his heart pounds. He’s surprised he’s actually gone a whole month without one since he’s moved in with Serah and Snow. The dream doesn’t feel like a night terror though, it’s not a jumble of twisted up false memories and his worst fears blended together by a too tired mind. No, it felt too real to be anything other than a genuine memory.

He kicks himself free of the sweat-soaked sheets and rolls out of bed. Not wanting to ruin the mattress, he strips the bed and leaves the sheets in a heap on the floor before making his way to the bathroom. Cold water to the face and neck help wake him up and wash away the sweat. He stares at himself in the mirror. He wonders if Bhunivelze stares back. Did he leave a part of himself behind in the Chaos? Some vital and crucial and very human sense of self that would eat a god alive like a virus?

It’s impossible to know. There’s no machine capable that could tell him.

He clicks open the door between his room and Snow and Serah’s, keeping his steps soft as possible as he heads for the living room. Snow stirs and clicks on the lamp before he reaches the door.

“Sorry,” Hope says in a whisper.

“Everything okay?” Snow asks, voice just as quiet.

Hope jerks his head in a nod, unable to bring himself to look over at him.

“Nightmare?”

“I don’t know,” Hope says. “Maybe. I think it was a memory.”

Snow sits up, shifting to the edge of the bed and getting to his feet before Hope can think to protest. He turns the lamp off and joins Hope, slinging an arm over his shoulders and hauling him towards the living room.

“You don’t have to stay up with me,” Hope says.

“I know,” Snow says. “I want to though. Come sit.”

Hope sits at the kitchen counter that Snow pushes him towards, watching as Snow opens the fridge and pulls out a jug of milk before grabbing a pot from the dishrack and filling it. He places it on the stove and sets it on a low heat before putting the milk back.

“So what did you remember?” Snow asks, turning towards him, back against the fridge.

Hope swallows, eyes going down to the counter top. “I think it was when Bhunivelze took control of me.”

“And what makes you so sure it was a memory and not a nightmare?” Snow asks.

“Nightmares are different,” Hope says. “They’re…horrific. Things don’t make sense really, in the dream or outside of it. This felt like remembering.”

When Hope spares a glance up, Snow nods, seemingly lost in thought.

“What was it like?” Snow asks. “What did he do?”

His jaw is clenched so tight, Hope can see the muscles in it twitching.

“I’m not going to tell you if it’s going to upset you,” Hope says. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“I know,” Snow says. “We just woke up one day and you were gone. All of your things were left behind so we knew something had gone wrong but we had no explanation.”

“He said that none of you would be able to manipulate Light the way he could using me,” Hope says.

Snow smiles then and then turns to the cabinet, knocking things aside as he looks for something. “Yeah, she did always like you more than the rest of us.” He pulls out a small box of cocoa powder and spoons it into the heating milk, stirring it around before sliding the box towards the back of the counter. “Still, if you think it would help to talk it out, I’m willing to listen.” 

“And the hot chocolate?” Hope asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, no judging. It helps me fall back asleep,” Snow says. “So…”

Hope swallows and keeps his gaze down on the counter. “He tried to fool me using my mom’s face and when that didn’t work he went to attack me but Alexander…Alexander tried to save me. Bhunivelze just destroyed him in seconds, turned to ash. So I did the only thing I could think to and instead of letting Bhunivelze take me over, I sort of…dragged him out of his own body and into mine so that we were twined too tightly together for him to get rid of me. I think I was trying to make it so he couldn’t erase me. And maybe so he’d be weaker when he tried to fight Light.”

Silence stretches between them, the only sound being Snow stirring the milk and then clicking the stove top off before rummaging through the cabinets for mugs. He’s not sure what response he’s expecting.

“That was incredibly brave of you, Hope,” Snow says. A mug of hot chocolate with a few marshmallows dropped in slides between Hope’s hands on the counter. “I can’t even imagine the amount of emotional strength it must have taken to do something like that. Maybe no one else could’ve been used against Light, but I think he made a mistake picking you, because there’s no one else I can think of who would be able to bring a god to their knees like that.”

“If that were true, Caius wouldn’t be where he is,” Hope says, watching the marshmallows melt into cream. He sips at it, the warmth slipping down his throat and into a body he hadn’t realized had gone cold with fear since he’d woken up. He shivers. “If I were really strong, Bhunivelze never would have taken me over.”

"Light and Caius fought Bhunivelze head to head, physical strength against physical strength, but neither of them have the mental fortitude to have forced him into their own bodies that way,” Snow says. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

"What if…what if he still has part of me?” Hope asks, the words coming out in a whisper. He regrets even saying them, terrified that speaking the possibility into existence could make it come true. “What if I did it wrong? Tied us together so tightly that we’ll never exist without each other?”

"Leave that and grab your coat,” Snow says after a beat of silence. “No shoes though.”

Hope obeys, grabbing his jacket and following Snow out into the cool early morning air in the backyard. When he looks up, the stars steal his breath away. It reminds him so much of that first night on Pulse when the sun set and the stars broke out over the inky black, a reminder that the world was vast and full of potential. But also that he was frighteningly small and so terribly alone. Snow steps up behind him, hands squeezing his shoulders.

“Do you remember that first night on Pulse? You summoned Alexander,” Snow says.

Hope stares up at the stars. “I was so scared.”

“Yeah, I think we all were when they came to us,” Snow says. “They come to remind us we’re not alone, not to put us out of our misery.”

Hope leans back into Snow’s warm and steady weight. “In the moment they attack, you remember how badly you want to live, and they reward you by never leaving.”

“And after, you were scared you wouldn’t be able to find him within yourself when you needed, remember?” Snow asks.

Hope can’t help but chuckle at the memory. “Yeah, it was a little silly.”

Snow’s hands squeeze tighter. “You were fourteen.”

_Fourteen_. With hundreds of years, an existence so short feels comically small.

“What’s the point of this tangent, Snow?”

“Remember after, I taught you how to meditate and find Alexander inside yourself,” Snow says. “That way you could talk to him whenever you wanted. No one, not even Bhunivelze could bind itself closer to you than Alexander. So look inside and see. See who you find.”

Snow steps away and Hope swallows as he stares up at the sky, feels the cool air through his hair, the soft cushion of grass against his feet, the wet dew slipping along his skin. He closes his eyes. With every exhale, he lets himself sink deeper and deeper into his psyche. It doesn’t come easy like it used to. In the days they’d fought every day for their lives, he could plunge into the depths of his power in less than a second and unleash Alexander’s whole being. It’s slower now. With each breath though, he does indeed sink deeper. And deeper.

And at each stage, he’s alone. He’s spent so long being too big for his body, power over-flowing out of him. His soul had contained those of gods and now…it’s just him. It’s a relief. At least it should be. And yet somehow, despite how desperate he’s been to confirm Bhunivelze has no hold on him, he can’t help but feel incredibly alone.

“Hope?”

“It’s fine,” Hope whispers, unable to open his eyes as they well up with tears. “It’s just me in here. I’m all alone.”

His voice cracks at the end. His knees buckles. And Snow catches him, pulls him close, and lets him break apart.

-.-

He wakes the next morning to fingers running up and down his spine. For a long moment, he lets the sticky cobwebs of sleep keep him still and calm so he can pretend he’s normal. Pretend that he’s waking in the arms of a lover not because he fell asleep in tears but because he wanted to. He can’t avoid reality forever though.

“Hi,” he says, mouth dry and voice thick with exhaustion.

"Morning,” Snow says. His voice sounds loud beneath Hope’s ear which rests on his bare chest. “Light showed up. She and Serah went into town to shop.”

Hope can’t help but snort at the thought. “Light? Shopping?”

Snow laughs, squeezing the back of Hope’s neck. “Serah’s been teaching her how to indulge herself. Jury’s still out on if it’s working.”

“You didn’t have to stay with me,” Hope says.

“I know. I wanted to,” Snow says. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

The words should be comforting. Instead, they just remind him of how childish he is. Before he can think too hard about it, he pushes himself up, and throws a leg over Snow’s hip so he’s straddling him. Pressing their lips together feels like an act of love and more like a need to be seen. Maybe that’s a sign that he should slow down, but then Snow kisses him back and it’s nothing like their first together in the woods. This is all hunger. It’s an answer to his question.

_Do you see me? _

_ Do you know me?_

_ Will you stay? _

Snow flips them with more grace than Hope would’ve granted him capable of. He doesn’t get the kiss he wants though. Instead, Snow stretches out over him, pressing him into the mattress and making him feel so incredibly small and protected all at once. It’s nice, but it’s not what he wants.

“Hope, this won’t fix anything,” Snow says, voice soft. His thumb rubs the inside of Hope’s wrist where he’s pinned them both on either side of his head.

“I know,” Hope says. “I just don’t want to feel alone. Just for a little while.”

“Okay,” Snow says.

It’s a relief when Snow kisses him, the final bit of proof he’s needed to assuage the fear that Snow would never see him as anything more than a child despite everything, despite how he needed to curl up in bed with him because of a nightmare. Snow’s hands pin his wrists to the mattress as his tongue slips into Hope’s mouth, brushing against his. It’s warm and wet and Hope wants more. Wants Snow to grip his wrists so hard that his bones grind together and bruises blossom over his pale skin and remind him that this is his body. His reality. And he’s not alone.

Pleasure slips down his spine, thick and slow, as he grinds up against Snow without thinking. His arousal simmers in the back of his mind. He thinks it should matter, that he should chase the feeling and see if it’ll turn into something more, something stronger, but he doesn’t really care about it when all he wants is to know Snow loves him.

He changes his mind when he feels Snow get hard against him. It takes him by surprise, head tipping back to break their kiss as he gasps, heart pounding when Snow’s lips find his jaw instead. The rough stubble scratches and makes shivers dance across his skin.

"Snow…”

A kiss presses to his pulse. “Hm?”

“Do you want…” Hope can’t help how his hips twitch up, chasing his own pleasure without permission from his brain. His words break around a soft moan. “Should I…”

“Whatever you want,” Snow says, and his tone bleeds with reverence, like any command Hope gave him would bring him the greatest pleasure he’d ever experienced.

The words should be a comfort, but more than anything, they overwhelm him. He forces his own hips down and takes a breath and then another, gasping and deep as he twists his fingers in Snow’s hair.

“Too much,” he says.

Snow backs off in a heartbeat and Hope misses his weight and his lips the moment they’re gone, but he needs the space. He needs the time to think. He stares up at Hope, tongue flicking out over his lower lip and he watches as Snow’s eyes track the movement and that alone sends another pulse of pleasure through his body.

“I just…I want more but it’s too much right now,” he manages to say after a moment.

“Okay,” Snow says. “We can stop.”

Hope grabs his wrist before he can move, shaking his head. “No I want to finish I just…” He wants to find the words, wants to prove that he can verbalize his own wants and desires, set his own boundaries for what he can take. “Watch?”

Snow almost chokes on his own breath, then shifts to dig around in the nightstand, stretched out over Hope before he leans back and presses the bottle of lube into Hope’s hand. Hope flushes. It’s his idea but he can’t help but feel worried, self-conscious.

“It’s okay, Hope,” Snow says. “There’s nothing of you I don’t want to see.”

The reminder helps. Snow shifts to lay next to him, propped up on his side. Hope closes his eyes and kicks the sheets down before hooking his thumbs in the hem of his sleep pants. It takes another deep breath to summon the courage to push them down just enough to expose his cock, hard and aroused in a persistent way that feels foreign. Snow’s fingers brush over his collarbone. It’s like a shock to the system, the simple touch breaking every inch of skin out in goosebumps and he groans, hand flailing down for the lube. He uncaps it, sloppy, spills slick over his hand and wraps it around his cock as fast he can, face turning towards Snow. He still can’t open his eyes.

Lips press to his. He gasps into it, presses closer, strokes faster. Snow doesn’t lay a hand on him, his fingers falling away so the only place they touch is the scant inch of their lips, and yet every inch of him is hyperaware of Snow’s body. He can feel its outline against his, a presence that presses into his skin. He bites at Snow’s lip and comes into his hand with a soft moan. The orgasm shakes him apart. He trembles, free hand coming up to squeeze at Snow’s shoulder to steady himself. When he opens his eyes, he nearly drowns in the hunger he sees in Snow’s gaze.

“You next,” Hope says, desperate not to be the only one feeling so vulnerable, so seen, so exposed.

Snow swallows, the sound of it loud in the tension filled silence that fills the space between his words and Snow going to grab the lube. Hope wipes his hand on his sweats and pulls them back up, the potential mess relegated to the back of his mind as he watches Snow roll onto his back and push his shorts down. His cock is bigger than Hope’s, big enough that he doesn’t want to think too hard about what they might do in the future. He presses himself into Snow’s side, tangling his legs with one of Snow’s as Snow reaches down to grasp his own cock.

"What are you thinking about?” Hope asks against his neck.

“You,” Snow says around a groan. He strokes fast, like has no desire to draw it out. Hope wonders how much of it is because he was watching Hope just a moment ago. The thought makes him feel more accomplished than it should.

“Me doing what?” Hope asks, needing to know.

“Riding me,” Snow says, voice gruff. “Bruising up your hips and fucking you so hard you can’t breath, can’t think.”

Hope licks his lips, the action inadvertently resulting in him tickling the side of Snow’s neck. “Sounds nice.”

“Fuck, Hope,” Snow’s voice breaks around a curse and he comes, cock twitching in his hand and making a mess of his stomach.

Hope reaches up to cup Snow’s jaw, drawing him down enough that he can press their lips together in a kiss. It’s comforting, just kissing, easing each other back down from the heart-pounding race to chase an orgasm down. Their hands slip over each other. For a few moments, Hope can lose himself in the way it feels, his fears and concerns of not being enough silenced by the warmth of Snow’s body.

When he pulls back, Snow gives him a slow and sleepy grin that makes his heart thump and stomach flip.

“So that was nice,” Snow says.

The bluntness of the words startle a laugh out of him and he flops onto his back as he laughs, his other hand flailing out to smack Snow’s ribs. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” Snow says.

Hope looks over at him, face flushing. “Yeah…I do.”

-.-

When Hope gets done showering and heads back out to the living room, Light and Serah are sitting on the couch. For a moment, he hovers in the hallway and stares. He’s spoken with Light regularly, but he hasn’t seen her since he graduated high school. The feelings that rise up in his chest are euphoric and overwhelming all at once, but before he can decide what to do or say, Light turns and looks at him.

She’s embraced her more feminine side now that she’s not fighting. In comparison to Serah it’s not much – just a smudge of light eye shadow and a slight shine of lip gloss. Still, it’s enough to make her look softer. The urge to hug her must show on his face. She’s on her feet and across the room in seconds, wrapping him in a tight hug that shakes free a wounded noise from his throat. Even in a new world, she smells the same. Familiar. Comforting. The hug is everything he wishes he could have with his mother.

“Hey there,” Light says, hand cupping the back of his head as he buries his face in her neck. “I missed you too.”

He’s not crying, but he’s pretty sure that’s only because he’s cried too much lately. No matter how much he loves Snow and Serah, and cares for Sazh and Fang and Vanille, there’s something about his bond with Light that nothing else can hold a candle to. There’s an understanding on some deeper level. Kindred spirits maybe. He doesn’t know what is. All he knows is her presence is the only thing that convinces him that he remains in reality.

“Let’s go for a walk, okay?” Light asks, hands firm on his shoulders as she pushes him back enough to look him in the eye.

He nods, offering Snow a reassuring smile before following Light towards the back door.

“Serah says you’ve been helping haul wood and garden,” Light says as they head towards the woods. “Has it helped?”

Count on Light to always cut straight to the core of the issue. Hope sighs as he guides them towards the path he walked on his own.

“It does. But I still just…I’m struggling with knowing any of this is real.” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye but she’s looking straight ahead. “Snow and Serah help, but when I think about my parents, I question myself all over again.”

"How do you love people you’ve already grieved the loss of? Something like that?”

Hope steps over a log. “Sort of. I had a nightmare about when Bhunivelze took control. It…made me worry that he’s still inside me somewhere and I freaked out and Snow had to talk me down. It was a whole thing. I don’t…I don’t know if I’ll ever be better.”

“He can’t get you Hope-“

“That’s not the point,” Hope interrupts, flushing even as he does so. After so long, he still can’t help but act like a petulant child, frustrated that the world doesn’t understand him without him even explaining. “It’s just…even if he can’t get me, even if this is the real world, how do I know my parents are? They died, Light. I grieved for them.” He comes to a stop, the act of walking suddenly feeling like too much. “And then I wake up and they’re right there like nothing happened, like everything is fine and like I was just me again, just a kid who’s biggest worries were if girls at school would like me.”

For a long moment, his words are met with silence. He stares into the woods and tries to steady his breathing. He hadn’t even known he’d begun to gasp, panic flitting at the edges of his mind because it was always there, right beneath the surface of whatever he was feeling.

“Would it help if they knew?” Light asks, her voice soft and steady behind him.

He can’t help but laugh, bitter, at the thought. “I’m not sure how that would help. The last thing I need is for them to think I’m crazy on top of everything else.”

“What do you mean?” Light asks. Her hand comes to rest on his shoulder, squeezing.

“I avoid them so much, barely even talk to them,” he says, eyes shifting downward to stare at the dirt and brush as they burn again with tears. “I couldn’t wait to move out because it hurt seeing my mom look at me like…like she was so sad and couldn’t understand why. I just couldn’t fool them I guess, into thinking I loved them.”

“Hope…”

“Which, that’s dumb, isn’t it? I’m offered a second chance to get everything I’ve ever wanted, live a normal life with normal parents who don’t fight, who love me, and I can’t even look them in the eye and say I love them,” Hope says, wiping at his cheeks as he starts to cry. _Always fucking crying. _The thought is bitter and angry. Maybe he hasn’t grown up at all.

“It’s not dumb,” Light says. She tugs at his shoulder and he goes, too tired to fight, so that they’re facing each other. “Hope, you’re not dumb. I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this guilt all alone.”

“I should feel guilty. I’m ungrateful,” he says, still not able to look at her. “And I’m not saying that because I want you to lie and tell me that it isn’t true.”

"Good, because I wasn’t going to say that,” Light says. “You are ungrateful. But I would be too in your shoes.”

Hope looks up at her. “What?”

She shrugs, glancing to the side. “Think about it. All we are is our memories. That makes up everything we are and if those memories aren’t there…then you’re not you. Not really. I don’t think you’re wrong Hope, to feel like your mom and dad aren’t the mom and dad you knew because well…they aren’t. And they never will be. Your parents are gone, Hope.”

He stares at her, mind turning over her words. She’s right of course. She always seems to be. But that thought is almost worse than the guilt, the thought that despite everything his parents are dead, even if he spent years living with and growing up with a set of parents who

“Light, I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he says, voice catching on its own tightness as the tears try to choke him again. “Why do I keep ending up alone?”

“You’re not…Hope, I’m right here,” Light says.

And she is. She always is.

-.-

They head back to the cabin once Hope collects himself, Light’s arm around his shoulder and holding him close, an anchor to the world.

"Serah mentioned you and Snow have begun to date,” Light says.

Hope tenses but Light just squeezes his shoulder. “I know it’s…different.”

“I’ll never see what people see in Snow, but if he makes you and Serah happy, I don’t really care,” Light says. “Just as long as you’re happy.”

“He makes me feel safe and I haven’t felt safe in a really long time,” Hope says. “And it’s not just now, it’s been like that ever since I forgave him all those years ago. No matter how much life experience I got under my belt, I felt relieved whenever he showed up.”

“You know he says the same about you,” Light says. “I know you feel like you’re a kid sometimes because you didn’t get to experience childhood like everyone else. I get that. Sometimes I feel like that too.”

Hope stops walking, the realization that she does hitting him all at once. “When your parents died…”

“I was still a teenager, yeah,” Light says, dropping her arm from around his shoulders. “I still haven’t even had my first kiss, or a first date unless we count that guy I went on a date with to fulfill his soul wish.” Her nose wrinkles. “I’d rather not count that.”

Hope swallows. “I didn’t realize.”

“I know. I don’t talk about it much,” Light says, blushing. “It’s sort of embarrassing. I didn’t want you to know. In a way, I suppose I was ashamed.” Light smiles. “But neither of us should be and you’re the one that helped me realize that. Thank you, Hope.”

Hope watches as Light turns and starts walking again, hesitating a moment before following. Hearing that he’d been able to help Light steadies him. For so long now he’s felt like a burden, a drain, no matter how many times they assured him he was not. But now he has something tangible. He’s_helped_. And not just Light. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes how much he’s done. He’s hauled wood, worked in the garden, talked with Serah while Snow did chores so she wasn’t lonely.

And before that…he’d worked so hard. He’d rebuilt society, advanced their technological capabilities by centuries, saved countless lives, saved Serah and Snow and Light dozens of times each. If he measured his worth by what he’d done, only a few people could surpass him. But if he’s learned one thing at all while staying in the care of Serah and Snow it’s that he deserves good things no matter how much or little he’s done. And yet it had still taken a few simple words from Light to truly crystalize the concept as truth in his mind.

It’s like having a fog lifted.

“Hey Light,” he says as they enter the back garden of the cabin.

"Hm?” Light asks, looking back at him.

“Thanks for everything,” he says.

Light smiles. “Of course.”

-.-

Light eats dinner with them before leaving with a hug to each of them. Hope finds it easy to settle between Snow and Serah in front of the television that night. Speaking with Light had stilled some of the demons in his head. The guilt is still there, but instead of feeling like he’s like alone while surrounded by people who love him, he feels present. _Real_.

“I think I decided on something,” Hope says as the game show cuts to commercial.

“Oh?” Serah asks, reaching down to twine their fingers together.

“Yeah. I’m not going to try and make myself love my new parents,” Hope says, voice firm.

“You know it’s not that simple right?” Snow asks.

Serah plays with Hope’s fingers, flattening his fingers out so she can start tracing odd designs over his palm. Hope leans against her so he can look at Snow.

“I know that,” he says. “But I’ve been feeling so guilty that I couldn’t accept them and they’re the source of all the anxiety I have about this world not being real. It’s not their fault I can’t cope with their existence. But it’s not mine either. It’s just a bad situation and I can’t keep putting my happiness on hold because I’m feeling guilty about something that I can’t even control.” He pauses and sighs. “And you’re right. Recognizing that doesn’t make the guilt go away.”

“But it’s a step in the right direction,” Snow says with a nod and then smiles. “Hope, that’s great.”

“Really, it is,” Serah agrees, then presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m glad you made that realization.”

Hope turns enough to look at her. “It’s because of you and Light and Snow that I did. Thank you for giving me the space to figure this out.”

Looking into Serah’s eyes, it’s like looking into Snow’s. The love and care he sees there makes his throat go tight and his heart pound. Her fingers still and she reaches up instead to cup his face. He swallows.

“If you’re going to kiss him, just do it already,” Snow says from behind him. “Otherwise I’m going to.”

Serah giggles, her other hand coming up to hide her smile behind the back of her hand. “May I, Hope?”

Hope nods and Serah leans in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as she rubs her thumb along his jaw. It’s short, but it gets the point across.

He’s safe. He’s healing. He’s loved. Just the way he is.


End file.
